From an Olive Branch
by Talesofwovensilver
Summary: Third year has only just started and Draco is tired of having to be someone he's not. Harry is tired of his two best friends constantly bickering. So when the two meet and an olive branch is extended, will it be accepted and allowed to grow, or will it be snubbed like it once was all those years ago on a train? This will be a Drarry fic, but it's starting off more as a friendship.
1. Chapter 1

"I can't do this anymore."

"What the hell are you talking about Malfoy?"

"Nothing Potter. Forget about I ever spoke."

Now Harry was curious. What the hell was up with Draco? They were –surprisingly enough – the only two people in the corridor. How that had happened, Harry had no idea.

Actually, now that Harry was thinking about it, he could never remember a single time he was alone with anyone – let alone Draco Malfoy – throughout his entire Hogwarts career. Now it was his third year and he'd just been trying to get his way back to the Gryffindor tower when the stairs had changed on him. He'd told Ron and Hermione to go ahead without him, he'd meet them back at the tower.

He hadn't thought much of it at the time. The stairs changed constantly. It wasn't an abnormal occurrence. There had even been other people on the stairs with him at the time, but Harry had recognised a shortcut he'd taken before, so had slipped away from the rest of the group to get the faster than everyone else (hey, he was a naturally competitive person okay!), only the shortcut didn't expel him where he had expected it to, and when he'd turned to go back the way he came the opening – and therefore the passage – had closed up.

Just then, Malfoy had appeared from around the corner and surprisingly enough, he hadn't had any of his goons with him, just as Harry hadn't had Ron or Hermione.

They'd frozen across the corridor from one another and the first thing uttered had been Malfoys: "I can't do this anymore."

It had been muttered, almost as if Draco had been talking to himself, but it had been loud enough for Harry to hear it from across the corridor.

Harry's own first response had been to immediately snap back at Draco without really processing what he'd said.

Now, looking at him, Harry saw Draco really did look utterly exhausted. So despite the fact that he and Draco had never gotten along, and despite the fact that Draco had purposefully gone out of his way to ridicule and insult Harry, he couldn't help but feel slightly worried for Malfoy.

After all, it wasn't solely Malfoy's fault for the animosity between them. Harry HAD been the one to create conflict with Draco by refusing his friendship (although it was debatable) and Harry DID ALWAYS respond to Draco's taunts and was often the one responsible for picking arguments with the other boy. So despite the fact that Harry hated the way Draco acted and hated the way he treated people he thought to be lower than him, as he stood on the opposite side of the corridor to the pale boy, who stubbornly and silently refused to move, and instead stared out of the fourth floor window, Harry was the first of the two to move.

He slowly walked towards Draco, stopping about two windows down.

"Malfoy?"

"What Potter?" Malfoy snapped at him, and Harry had to remind himself not to snap back.

Merlin, he hadn't realised it was such an ingrained habit!

"What can't you do anymore?"

Draco stared at him, surprised at Harry's tone. It wasn't mocking or taunting, it actually sounded concerned.

"Why do you care Potter?"

Harry actually had to stop and think about it. Why did he care?

"I don't know." Harry admitted honestly.

Draco scoffed in response.

"Typical Gryffindor response."

Harry was starting to get annoyed, which made him snappy, and with it being Malfoy especially, he was quick to explode.

"Just shut up for a second won't you Malfoy. I was **going to say,** that I don't know why I care, but you look terrible and I was just trying to ask if you were okay, because someone should! Dear God! Is that really so hard to believe? If you're going to get so defensive about something that **you said in the first place** then next time I just won't bother to ask!" Harry moved to shove past Draco.

Draco gave an irritated, groan in the back of his throat, before moving to stop Harry from walking past.

"Wait Potter. Just wait."

Harry didn't turn to look at Draco, but he didn't move past him either.

"What I said earlier. I meant that I don't want to constantly have to argue. I don't want to have to be cruel all the time. I know everyone in this school seems to think that all Slytherins are naturally cruel and evil, but I'm thirteen just like you and it is exhausting having to constantly be at someone's throat."

The more Draco spoke, the more intense his voice got, and the more the frown on his face deepened.

"So why do you?"

"Why do I? You're going to have to elaborate Potter."

Malfoy was a git. An insufferable git at that, but Harry only rolled his eyes and readjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder.

"Why constantly be at someone's throat? Why constantly insult people and pick fights if – and this is if I'm reading you right – you don't actually want to?" Now Harry did look at Malfoy, and his gaze didn't waver.

"Because I'm expected to."

Four words. They were so uncertain, yet they explained so much.

Ever since he'd entered the wizarding world, he'd known that people would be looking at him, expecting things from him. So he'd constantly felt self-conscious and the moment he'd been presented with a choice he'd chosen the option he knew he was expected to choose.

Given, he'd already had pre-formed conceptions that altered his way of thinking _(Perhaps it was Harry's imagination, after all he'd heard about Slytherin but he thought they looked an unpleasant lot)_ , but he hadn't taken the time to really think out his decision.

' _Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness.'_

Harry hadn't even given Slytherin a second thought. In fact he'd gone into his Sorting believing it would be the worst possible outcome.

' _Not Slytherin, not Slytherin.'_

But hadn't he always had the ambition to do something – to be someone? (The need to be someone had stemmed from the need to prove the Dursleys wrong). So for that reason Slytherin would have been the logical choice.

Yet, even though the Sorting Hat had told him Slytherin could lead him to greatness, he had never considered it an option, and although it hadn't been purely due to one factor, the expectations placed on him from the minute he had been introduced to the wizarding world had a large impact on him and the actions he took. He'd wanted – needed – to fit in. Meaning being brave and most certainly NOT going to Slytherin.

Harry supposed it was all about perception. Hadn't his second year taught him all about that? He being a parselmouth had immediately labelled him as evil and/or the heir of Slytherin to most people. They'd seen what they'd wanted to see.

Since the first time he'd met Malfoy, Harry had labelled him as an arrogant from his demeanour and the way he spoke, and once he'd insulted Hagrid (the first person to be truly kind to him) Harry had immediately disliked him, he hadn't even thought to wonder why an eleven year old would say that type of thing unless that was what they had been taught.

Then their second meeting had solidified the dislike for Malfoy.

' _riff-raff'_

' _same way as your parents'_

But now Harry thought about it, it would explain Malfoy's extreme behaviour, if he was only acting, trying to be someone he was expected to be. What he'd said wouldn't seem unfit coming straight from Lucius Malfoys mouth, if only less mature.

But if that was true, what was Malfoy really like? And could Harry trust him?

"Potter. Stop staring at me."

Right.

"You're expected to insult people?" Harry asked, his tone was halfway between curious and dubious.

Malfoy didn't respond for a while and Harry was beginning to think he wasn't going to when Malfoy finally spoke.

"It creates an alternative exterior. I don't know why I'm telling this to you of all people, but it creates an image that's easy for me to control and doesn't allow people to manipulate me easily. Obviously it's not perfect, I'm sure many people have worked out I'm a naturally volatile person, it doesn't take a genius to figure it out."

Harry hesitated for a moment, before walking to the window and perching on the ledge. This wasn't a conversation that you could have in a few minutes, so he figured he may as well get comfortable.

Malfoy tensed when Harry began to walk away, but relaxed once Harry only moved to sit down.

Draco didn't move to sit down, but he did move so that he was leaning against the opposite side of the window, and only had to turn his head to look at Harry.

"So do you hate me?" Harry raised his eyebrow at Malfoy (something he had just learned to do, and therefore took great pleasure in doing).

Draco seemed startled by the question and consequently moved his head slightly to stare at Harry.

After a moment Draco smirked at him.

"You irritate me greatly, and I take great joy in mocking you. You're very easy to mock Potter, and you have the most amusing reactions."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Ever honoured to amuse you Malfoy." Harry's voice was so thick with sarcasm it made Draco raise his own eyebrow in mock astonishment/incredulity.

"Why do I feel as if that isn't a sincere statement?"

Harry seemed to be rolling his eyes a lot in the past few minutes.

"Don't think I didn't notice you evading the question Malfoy." Now Malfoy did truly raise his eyebrow at Harry.

"I wouldn't say I hate you. But I greatly dislike people that insult me." Malfoy's last statement was very pointed.

"You started it."

"Oh dear, are we back to infantile accusations once more?"

Harry snorted

"You can't deny it was you're fault."

"I think it's highly debatable."

"I think it's lowly debatable. You insulted Hagrid, then you insulted Ron and his family, and then you insulted my parents. I really don't see how it could possibly be anybody but your fault."

Harry stared pointedly at Malfoy, who at least had the decency to cringe at the list.

"Yes, well you didn't exactly deal with it in the most responsible manner either."

"I was eleven."

"Touché Potter."

Harry had to hold back to smile that was threatening to emerge. Draco's manner was dryly amusing and Harry was starting to see he didn't really know Malfoy in the slightest.

Harry didn't have an immediate response, but stared out of the window thoughtfully.

He stayed looking out the window for longer than he thought, Draco not breaking the silence that had settled over them.

Harry only moved his gaze from the Hogwarts grounds upon registering the set of eyes on him, at which he moved his gaze to meet Malfoys.

Draco was staring at him in a thoughtful way.

"Yes, Malfoy?"

Draco seemed to snap out of his thoughts easily.

"Just wondering why you're so relaxed Potter. I would have thought you'd be tenser."

"Touché Malfoy." Harry grinned at being able to use Malfoy's own words against him.

Draco just scoffed and shook his head.

"Imbecile." Oddly, Harry didn't really feel insulted at the insult.

"Malfoy, I swear not to tell anyone about this meeting, but I was wondering, we don't have to be at each other's throats so often."

Draco once again took the time to study him, almost to try and see if he were lying.

"I won't say anything if you don't Potter. I suppose we could just pretend."

"Pretend?"

"Yes Potter, it is the action of-"

"No! Merlin Malfoy! Honestly, I know what the word means, I was clarifying what you said. You want to…?"

"Well, you're surprisingly entertaining to talk to."

"Gee Malfoy, I feel so honoured."

"Shut up Potter, I'm talking. Anyway, I'm saying, we can just insult each other without meaning anything. It's pretty easy, you should be able to manage it."

"Are you insulting my intelligence?"

"Blatantly so, yes."

Harry just shook his head, this time he couldn't quite contain the small grin that played across his lips at the back and forth.

That was, until he glanced down and caught sight of his watch.

"Oh no."

"What?"

"Transfiguration."

"What about it?" Even as he spoke Draco was looking at his own watch, and almost simultaneously the two boys swore before taking off down the corridor at a dead run.

"This is all your fault Malfoy!"

"My fault? In what universe was this my fault?"

At the pace they were going, they reached the Transfiguration classroom in twenty minutes after they'd asked a reliable portrait the way.

"Uhh! Don't ask me questions." Harry was in too much of a rush to process and form a coherent response to exactly why this was all Malfoy's fault.

"Right. I forgot you had the intelligence of a flobberworm."

"Mister Malfoy. Mister Potter. As interesting as your conversation may be, I'm more interested in why the two of you seem to be of the opinion it is appropriate to turn up to my classroom fifteen minutes late."

"It was his fault." The accusatory response was simultaneous and both boys pointed to one another in synchronization.

"Well, you can both explain to me exactly why you're both late in detention. Take your seats."

With matching groans the boys did so, separating to join their respective friends on opposite sides of the room.


	2. Chapter 2

Over the next week Harry found himself much more relaxed than he had been for a long while, he found it easy enough to ignore the dementors surrounding the castle when he was surrounded by his friends in the Gryffindor common room or his dorm, or even just learning new spell to cast in his lessons, without having to worry about malicious encounters with Malfoy. In fact he was starting to enjoy running into Malfoy, it was fun trading barbs with him, especially as nobody seemed even slightly suspicious of their encounters, because it wasn't so different to their previous meetings.

It seemed as if Hermione was always in a hurry lately, so the one person who he'd thought he'd have to more careful around wasn't really paying that much attention to the proceedings.

Ron was more interested in fighting with Hermione than Malfoy currently, so he wasn't paying much more attention.

In fact, their bickering was getting so much that Harry was getting into the habit of just walking off when either one of them started something with the other. He didn't even need to make an excuse because he had a perfectly good one.

Currently, it was the first day of October – a month he always dreaded – and the two had started arguing before they'd even gone down to breakfast, so Harry – with it being a Saturday – had decided not to make his day any more stressful than it had to be and slipped through another hidden pathway when the two weren't paying him any attention.

The loud voices of Ron and Hermione cut off as Harry made his way through the hidden passageway, curiosity setting in as he realised he'd never used this passage before.

Quickly flying up the stairs, Harry emerged onto yet another long corridor. It was one he hadn't been on before, not dissimilar to any other corridor in the castle, except for the large window panes were all empty. Probably why this corridor looked as though it was rarely used. It wasn't exactly the safety places for hundreds of students to pass through. If one of them was shoved too far, they could fall straight out of the window.

Fortunately for Harry, he was the only one in the corridor, so had no worries of accidently falling out a window.

Walking towards them, Harry took in the waist high thin ledge, and wide, arching windows with stone embellishments curling down from the top of the frame. There was a slight chill in the air, but Harry wasn't one to care too much. Instead, he perched on the edge of the window, closing his eyes as the wind ruffled his hair gently. The Scottish countryside surrounding Hogwarts was so open and unpolluted. It made a change from living most of his life in the suburban area of Little Whinging, Surrey. He hated it there, so every day he could spend at Hogwarts was a blessing to Harry.

Gritting his teeth, Harry forcibly tried to remove his thoughts from the Dursleys. Hatred and Dread curled in his gut at even the thought of being forced back there.

"What's got your face looking like that Potter?" A smooth, drawling voice sounded from behind him, and Harry leapt of the side of the window at being startled. His feet landing on the stone floor.

Pale, blonde hair gleamed like a beacon in the morning light, and a non-uniform wizarding robe was partially covered by a thick cloak, making Harry realise he probably should have bought his own cloak, only he hadn't planned on exploring the castle, so hadn't thought it necessary.

"I didn't hear you approaching Malfoy. Where did you come from?"

Malfoy just smirked.

"You will never know."

Harry just rolled his eyes.

"Right." His own lips twitched in a forbidden smile.

"So?" Malfoy raised his eyebrow in a challenge.

"So what?" Harry made his face look as innocent as possible, which just got another snort from Malfoy.

"What unpleasant thing were you thinking about that made you pull that face." Malfoy walked slightly past Harry, before perching next to a division in the window.

Harry gave the other boy a calculating look, contemplating whether to tell the truth or not. Malfoy had made fun of Harry's home life often enough in the past, what with Harry's lack of any contact from his relatives, and the appalling clothing. A though which made Harry more self-conscious of what he was wearing. Not only was it muggle, but very ill fitting.

But Harry wasn't sure whether Malfoy realised quite how bad Harry's home life actually was. Should he tell him? He was surprised to find he wanted to. But apprehensive as to whether he should.

Either fortunately or unfortunately Malfoy made the call for him. He must have noticed Harry pulling on the sleeve of his jumper or something similar.

"You were pulling a face like that because of your clothing? Not that I don't think it's horrific, but surely if you despised it quite so much you'd just change it?"

Harry stared at Malfoy. He didn't realise it, but the intensity of his stare unsettled Draco greatly.

It made guilt well up in the paler boy's chest. It had been fine making fun of Potter's clothes (and just Potter in general) when they both hated one another, but now that they settled on an agreement of sorts, Draco found himself caring more about Potter's opinion of him. Which had probably been why Draco had found himself not insulting not only Potter, but also Longbottom, and just more people in general. Now that he'd actually spoken to Potter about why he acted the way he did (he still couldn't figure out why he'd done that) he was more aware of the way people perceived him.

And he was coming to realise he didn't like it. It just seemed so petty, and he didn't want to live the rest of his life being labelled as a conceited bully. He wanted to be respected. It had been an eye opener to realise he wasn't. The only reason people let him get away with the way he acted was because of his name, his wealth, and his father.

Draco had come to realise that didn't sit well with him. Something he'd spent the last week contemplating over many sleepless nights.

Blaise had actually confronted him about it this morning. The boy was sharp, and he'd picked up on Draco's behaviour throughout the week and cornered him in their empty dorm once everyone had left to breakfast.

Draco had been forced to spill a few truths about himself to Blaise, including he was starting to realise he didn't really like the person he was. Blaise had spent a minute just looking at Draco, working something over in his head. Then the boy had smiled at him and told Draco he'd keep his secret, and that if Draco was really serious then perhaps there would be a chance of an alliance between their two families in the future, with both of them being heirs to their respective families.

It had been a lot for Draco to take in, so he's told Blaise he was skipping breakfast today, and to cover for him if anyone asked.

Then he'd just decided to spend the day exploring the castle. He still didn't know how the castle worked, because it was always changing, and some of the less populated parts of the castle never seemed to stay in the same place. That's how he'd managed to bump into Potter in this corridor.

Now Potter was staring at him with those too green eyes and it made Draco uncomfortable.

"No offense intended Potter, but even you must realise those clothes don't exactly…" Draco trailed off as Potter tilted his head slightly, and his lips curved in a small smile.

"It's fine Malfoy." Something twisted in Potters face at his last name. "I don't like these clothes any more than you do. I assure you."

"Draco." The boy in question wasn't about to drop the topic, but first he wanted to address the fact that something flickered in Potter's face when he'd said Draco's family name. He wanted to see if it was just the name or him. "Call me Draco."

Potter's green eyes analysed him, but then his lips twitched and his eyes seemed to light up slightly.

"Okay Draco. Call me Harry then."

Draco nodded, his own smile dancing lightly across his lips.

He didn't say anything for a moment before moving back to their conversation.

"So, Harry. If you don't like the clothes you wear? Why wear them?"

"Because they're all I have." The green eyes opposite him seemed to bore into Draco, showing him that this was much more important than Potter – Harry's – casual tone suggested.

The was silence for a beat before Draco's muscles suddenly tightened and his confused frown cleared, before an expression of thunder appeared on his face and he leapt off of the ledge, and moved as close as he dared to Harry's person.

His voice was slightly strangled when he finally spoke.

"What?"

Harry was astonished at the reaction. He hadn't expect for Malfoy- _Draco_ to react so strongly. It was as though Draco were taking Harry's situation personally. It took a moment for Harry to process that Draco had spoken enough for him to come up with an answer.

In the end, Harry didn't have to bother because Draco resumed speaking.

"Are you telling me that your forced to wear those- _those rags_?!" He spat the last two words out as if they were poison in his mouth.

In his surprise Harry didn't even think of telling anything but the truth.

"Yes…"

"By whom?" The 'whom' confused Harry, but he didn't comment.

"My relatives." His response was slightly hesitant.

"The muggles?" Draco was looking at him as though the thought confused him. And Harry supposed it did. To Draco, wizards were the superior race, it was what the blonde boy had been raised to know, and he wouldn't understand how the muggles could force Harry to do anything.

"I can't do magic outside Hogwarts. I don't have much say in the matter."

Harry was surprised it was actually not as hard to talk about as he'd thought it would be. Perhaps because Draco wasn't giving him much time to process everything he was giving out. He was never telling Hermione the only thing she had to do to get him to tell her whatever she wanted was to surprise him so much, and ask questions so fast he didn't have time to process his answer. He'd never have any secrets.

"But they're muggles. You're Harry Potter. The boy who lived." Draco said it as if it explained everything.

"That doesn't mean anything to them. They hate magic, they-" Harry abruptly cut off, which caught Draco's attention even more than what he'd said.

"What were you going to say?" Draco's eyes were narrowed and he fastened his grey eyes on Harry.

"Nothing." It was too rushed. Harry winced slightly.

"No. You were going to say something. What was it?" Draco's voice had done the opposite of what Harry had expected him to. Instead of shouting, and getting louder (trying to make themselves heard), like Harry had come to expect people did when they wanted to know something, Draco's voice had lowered until it was just a murmur, and although the other boy hadn't moved from where he'd been standing before, Harry couldn't help but feel as though the other boy had gotten a lot closer.

"You said they hated magic. What were you going to say Harry?" Steely grey eyes pierced into Harry's own green eyes, freezing him to the spot.

He felt the confession slip out of his lips against his will. Despite Draco not using any magic against him, Harry couldn't help but feel as though to lie to the other boy, even lying by omission would be one of the worst things he could possibly do.

So he told the truth.

It floated between the two boys. A whisper. An expression of trust.

"They hate me."

Something fluttered across Draco's face, Harry was surprised to recognise it was guilt.

But then Draco bit his lip slightly, looking at Harry with something warring in his eyes.

"Do you… Will…" Draco looked annoyed at his own incomprehension. "Would you want to talk about it?"

Harry stared at Draco for a moment, before nodded slightly and shifting of the windowsill to sit below it, on the floor.

He just looked at Draco and waited for him join him. Which he did.

It took hours, but eventually Harry had finally told someone everything he'd kept cooped up for so long. About the way he was treated. About the neglect, and abuse. Something he still wasn't really comfortable with labelling. About the cupboard under the stairs and the way his Hogwarts things were the only thing he really owned for himself.

Draco swore he would never tell anyone what Harry had told him. In return, Draco told Harry about Sirius Black, and made sure Harry wouldn't go looking for him. Forcing the volatile Gryffindor to stop, listen and realise it would do no good to go looking for Sirius Black.

But that wasn't all Draco told Harry. He told him about something he'd overheard between his parents, and his following conversation with his mother.

He told him about Sirius Black. The man who ran away from his family.

He told him what his mother had told Draco. That Sirius Black had received no trial. That his mother believed the man to be innocent.

Harry had a hard time coming to terms with everything Draco told him. Learning that the man had been responsible for his parent's death, and his own fate. Then learning that what everyone – including him for a short while – believed about the man might be a lie.

The two boys spent the whole day sat in the abandoned corridor talking. Both boys letting go of any preconceived notions of the other, and just getting to know the other for the first time.

When the sky started darkening, the two finally separated, both returning to their respective dorms before dinner, both having eaten nothing that day.

What neither boy yet realised was that there was now a bond between that two than had been forged that day in compassion, and understanding, and acceptance.

And it would only grow.


End file.
